


What Can I Do But Love You

by Lillian_Sunshine



Category: Historical RPF, Lewis and Clark
Genre: M/M, There's Arguing, and making out, and making up, but i didn't plan it that way it just sort of happened, clark is a rock, lewis is a hot mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 05:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13563681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillian_Sunshine/pseuds/Lillian_Sunshine
Summary: I thought it might be nice to write about Lewis' life for a change. I was pretty heavily influenced by Clay Jenkinson'sThe Character of Meriwether Lewis, particularly his write up of Lewis', "All the beasts of the neighborhood are in league to destroy me" moment. That's when I realized that Lewis had something ethereal about him, something beautiful but also dangerous. And so I had to write a fic about it.





	What Can I Do But Love You

Between the two of us I always wake up first. Not any more than a quarter hour before dawn some internal mechanism opens my eyes. It’s a new development, Lord knows back in my ensign days I cherished every moment I could get before the musician’s call. But here for the past year and a half I have never needed prodding to rouse me.

I look over at my friend. Soon enough he’ll be looking his cultivated windswept self, but right at this moment he’s just a man with messy hair and drool running down his chin, in the middle of a dream.

It’s good to see him like this. Especially now. It’s impossible to be _impossible_ when you’re sleeping. I yawn and sit up. Lewis stirs and looks at me with bleary eyes. “‘S still dark out” he murmurs and adjusts himself so his face is resting in the cradle of his two arms.

“Sluggard,” I say as I step into my pants.

Janey’s already up when I peek my head out of the tent. It’s unsurprising. I may always wake before Lewis but Janey’s usually the first person I see up. She smiles when sees me and gestures for me to come over. We can’t speak more than a handful of phrases to each other without her husband there to translate, but that doesn’t stop us from getting along just fine.

To my delight she hands me a handful of blueberries and gestures to her mouth with her hands to tell me to hurry up and eat my treat before the rest of the men start to wake up. “Huuwihu,” I say, which I’ve learned from her means thank you. She perpetually finds me fruits and vegetables because she knows how everything the men eat upsets my stomach. A few blueberries aren’t going to satiate me of course, but it’s nice to be able to enjoy a food without considering the side effects. Because she always sneaks the foods to me I haven’t had the chance to use her husband to tell her I appreciated the trouble she must go to bring me these favors, but I hope my gestures make it clear 

In the last moments of peace and quiet Janey and I watch the sun fill the sky with pastel pinks and oranges. From somewhere behind me I hear York emerge from the trees. He’s often out in forest before I wake up. I don’t particularly care as long as he’s back in the camp by dawn for morning chores.

If this morning is any indication, it’s going to be a lovely day. That realization affects everyone as the camp awakes. The sergeants get their pods up a little easier than usual and the men seem in spirits. Even Private Shannon, who can sleep through gunshots managed to rise on time.

And then Lewis comes out.

The world doesn’t end. He’s not a harbinger of darkness. The men don’t fall silent. But the air changes. Whenever he walks near a pod having their breakfast the conversation immediately takes on the strained quality of men watching their words. I never have that problem. The only people Lewis gives more than a cursory glance and a smile to are Drouillard and the Fields. I don’t think he gives even that much to Janey and Pomp, but I prefer to believe that’s because her husband is with them, and I don’t think Lewis would dane to smile at Charbonneau if he announced he’d found an all water route to the Pacific.

He walks towards me with a piece of dried buffalo jerky in his hand and a smile. “The men seem high spirited today.”

 _And how can you know that if you don’t talk to them,_ I think but instead I say, “And why not? The weather is lovely, the wind is in our favor and we’re finally underway on the Jefferson.”

“Thanks to you,” he says, referring to the scouting mission I led to decide which of the Three Forks we ought to take. See, he’s trying to be a friend to me, but I can’t not hear the slight condescension in his voice when asks me if I feel quite recovered from the fatigues of my excursions.

I never would had thought anything of it before. I would have assumed it was just his way of expressing concern. But ever since the whole episode at the Falls I’ve been thinking the worst of my friend. I don’t mean to. The thoughts pop into my mind and it’s getting harder and harder for me to dispel them. For example, I used to think Lewis’ distance from the men was his style of authority. Now I’m not sure if it isn’t just simple disinterest. And that doesn’t sit right with me.

I keep it to myself. “Oh my feet are still plenty sore but the swelling stayed down since the last time you examined it.”

“Good.” A pause, and I can tell what he’s going to say next from the look in his eyes. “I think I’ll walk on ahead of you all today.”

 _Again._ “Pleasant day for it.” I say, still with a smile.

His wavers as he waits for me to drop the distant pleasantries and make things easy between us again. I don’t, and eventually he does a sort of awkward nod and walks away.

I sigh. This isn’t strange behavior for Lewis. He always goes for walks while we float down the river. It’s important scientific work. So why I am so annoyed by it?

“Captain shall we pack up our camp and prepare to set sail?” Sergeant Ordway asks.

“Yes certainly,” I reply. One thing’s for sure, I have nothing to gain by dwelling on it, so I set to the detailed procedure that is packing up camp.

***  
As a matter of fact my feet are still _very_ sore from the prickly pears and I know in a few hours the buffalo jerky will be turning my stomach. None of that matters. This expedition is good work. This corps is good company. On a fine day like this we’ll make good time and the men will probably be in a dancing spirit this evening.

Soon laughter will come from Pryor’s pirogue as Private Shannon starts up his antics. Cruzatte’s stories will carry on the wind. We’ll get to hear Janey sing something soft and sweet to little Pomp who usually gets a little fussy after the first few hours bouncing around in a boat.

This life is a good life. Despite the mosquitoes and hard labor it really is, and I count myself extremely fortunate to have been given the chance to be a part of it. As I watch Lewis’ form disappear into the wilderness, all I can think is, _Meriwether you fool, you’re missing it. You’re missing all of it._

_***_

My bones ache as I slowly lay myself down on the pelt, but it’s a good ache, the accomplished ache that comes with a hard day’s work. We put some miles behind us today. Just as I had predicted Cruzatte brought out his violin and we all had a lively few hours of merriment. Pompy truly shines during moments like this, he’s such a cheerful little boy most of the time and it’s always great fun for me to see him laughing and kicking and pumping his little arms to Cruzatte’s music.

“I’ll be done soon,” Lewis says, face illuminated by candlelight. He’s fussing over his journal entry, bent way over the candle so that his body blocks most of the light from me. I’m used to it now, Lewis has been writing more since we left Fort Mandan.

His quill scratches are labored and slow. It’s not going well. Or he’s distracted. I know he’s expecting me to make conversation, ask him how his day went, etc. The usual.

“You must’ve have quite the day,” I say, stretching out and trying to get comfortable. “Perhaps soon I’ll give it a try.”

Lewis’ pen stops. “Perhaps.” He says in a too bright voice, and then his quill scratches get significantly faster.

And therein lies the heart of the problem. I don’t mind that he likes to wander, after all he probably does do better scientific work than me, and his ability to describe the land far surpasses mine. I’m more than capable of supervising the men in his absence, in fact the day seems to be rather less stressful when Lewis is off somewhere else. But I swear to God that man guards his wanderings like a jealous lover.

For five minutes or so I stare up at the ceiling of our tent and pretend like I’m asleep and I don’t hear Lewis’ incessant scratching and scratching out. I don’t need to be looking at him to know his face is all scrunched up in worry. _I wish he wouldn’t write when he’s like this, it’s a waste of ink._ All at once he stops.

“Bill,” he says, looking over at me. “Have I done something wrong?”

The frankness of the question catches me off guard and I answer, “Why would you think that?”

“Because you have barely talked to me at all since you came back from your scouting trip. Before that, despite being in an extremely unsatisfactory state of health you practically skewered me when I suggested you were too ill to lead an on foot expedition to the Three Forks.”

 _Well alright then._ “You knew it was the Missouri,” I say, bringing myself back up into a sitting position.

“What?”

“The Missouri River. You knew it was the right river before you decided to go on the scouting expedition.”

Although soon masked by a look of confusion, something flashes on Lewis’ face that lets me know I touched a nerve. “What in the world does that have to do with anything?”

“And then,” I continue. “When I go to copy down your journal entry into mine, I discover you sent the rest of your men out hunting and continued on alone. It struck me odd Meriwether, very odd indeed that you should make such a point out of being alone.”

He’s silent.

“I tried not to make anything of it. But I kept on thinking how unnecessary the trip was. We could’ve all gotten there in a week or so and nothing would have been lost. It would’ve even been slightly better to have the extra hands to help get the boats running smoothly. And then there was you Lewis. You just couldn’t wait to tell everyone how you were the first one to view the falls. Besides your favorites you rarely give any of the men more than 5 minutes of easy conservation, and yet you were so eager to tell and retell your story to anyone who would listen.”

“It was a breathtaking discovery.” Lewis says. “I thought the men would want to hear about it.”

“You never forgot to emphasize you were first. That’s when I realized it. You’re always the one who’s first.”

“Well we are on an expedition into uncharted territory. Those moments are to be expected,” Lewis says with a contorted smile.

“Just stop it and listen to me,” I snap. “So I did some more thinking. You're always the one to go onshore and do the exploring. Always, I barely leave the riverside.”

“Well Bill,” Lewis says, “I am the one with knowledge of how to take specimens and such, it’s only logical.” His points always are “only logical” but the nervous expression on his face tells me otherwise.

“And it’s never, ‘Bill I was thinking of going out today do you mind?’ ‘Bill do you need me here or can I go on shore today?’. Instead you tell me you’re going and then you leave. Like I’m just here to provide the transportation to your flights of fancy!”

“That’s not true.” Lewis says softly.

“Tell that to your journals.” I say. “Whenever you find anything of interest you’re always the only one there.”

“In my journals,” Lewis says, staring at the ground. “You’re always Captain Clark. My _worthy_ friend Captain Clark. I don’t bandy about praise.”

“It seems to me the Falls of the Missouri are a little more worthy to you.”

“Oh what would you rather me say? You’re right I should be more like you, instead of describing the awesome power of the Falls, I’ll write about how the mosquitoes are troublesome; would that make me better in your eyes?”

That stings more that it should for a grown man but I ignore the jibe. “Goddamnit Meriwether this isn’t about that! You could’ve written the same stunning journal entry if you’d stayed with us, it would just have been a few days later, and we’d have all been viewing it at the same time!”

“Then what is this about?” He’s not giving me an inch.

“This is about you and your inability to share glory!” I wince at the sound of my voice and I take pains to lower it. It wouldn’t do after all, for the men to hear us fight. “This is about the fact that you’re only ‘extremely happy in my company’ when it comes to getting up the river.” 

“Bill…”

“I told you when you first asked me to come along that I was happy to join you in hand and in heart. We’re not joined in heart, Meriwether and I’m beginning to think we never were. My heart is in getting this corps to the Pacific and yours is, well yours is out here.” I gesture around me. “The things you do are not consistent with the mindset of man who wants to get himself and the men under his care safely to the West.”

He’s staring at me now. “How dare you.” His voice is ice.

I blaze on. “You take unnecessary risks constantly. It’s never a smart idea to split us up if it can be avoided, and yet that’s what you did to get to the Falls. I suppose you figured it was worth the risk if you could only get there _first._ And your walks, you fill me with fear when you go on your walks .I know how important they are to the scientific aspect of this expedition, and I know how much your disposition improves when you’ve had one, but I still expect you to use good judgement. When you’re away I can’t trust you not to do something utterly idiotic like walk towards buffaloes that are charging at you! Or leave yourself unarmed to face a grizzly! Or fall off a cliff!

There’s a pale sort of anger in his face, one more steeped in hurt than in rage. “What are you saying? You think I’m incompetent?”

I soften my voice a bit. “I’m saying when you’re out there you lose yourself. I don’t know what it is, if you’re blinded by a search for glory, or if it’s just this place, or some part of each, but whatever it is you’re not my friend Meriwether when it happens.”

"Don't tell me who I am and am not.” He says with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

I ignore him. “And you know who else you’re not when you’re out there? Captain Lewis. Tell me Meriwether, right now, can you name every member of our Corps without looking at the duty roster?”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Don’t open your mouth unless it’s to tell me the names of everyone in the Corps of Discovery.”

He remains silent.

“No, how could you? Even when you spend the day with me you don’t spend it with the men. You’re just near them. You don’t listen to their stories or laugh at their jokes.”

“Maybe I just don’t see it as fit for a captain to become good friends with a private.” He’s full of bullshit of course. His relationship with the Fields brothers hasn’t suffered any from their rank. Does he believe his own nonsense?

“You didn’t seem to have any qualms about a captain becoming friends with an ensign back in your day.” I’ve cornered him. He folds.

“So our leadership style is different. The men still obey me.”

“Is that all that matters to you? Don’t you care about how stiff they are around you? Don’t you notice that, with the exception of medicinal issues, they all come to me with their problems? You’ve gotten the allegiance of a handful Lewis but the rest are mine.”

“Bill,” Lewis’ voice is pleading now. “Please. I wanted you to be my co captain because I knew you how good you were. I knew you knew how to gain the loyalty of the men. I knew you were more capable at managing the day to day activities of getting these boats to sail smoothly. As for me I’m the scientist! I’m the explorer! We’re a team!”

I shake my head. “What if I die? What if tomorrow at breakfast, a snake slithers into camp and bites me and I die? Do you trust yourself to get these men there and back again?”

He can’t meet my eyes. “It’s not such a hard thing to improve upon Meriwether. Our men are good, obliging people. You just need to take an interest in them and they’ll take an interest in you. Focus a little less on grabbing all the glory of the newest landmark for yourself, and a little more on this expedition and everything will work itself out.”

Lewis’ eyes are bright and he’s breathing heavy. His hands are clenching and unclenching. He looks as mussed up and panicked as I’ve ever seen him. I avert my eyes.

“I need to matter.” Lewis says, so softly I can barely hear him. “I need to know I mattered. Being the first person out here, the first person at the Falls, that’s where it all starts.”

“You matter,” I say halfheartedly. It doesn’t roll off of the tongue after spending the last 15 minutes arguing  and both he and know it wasn’t very well said. “But you know Meriwether we have just as much right to matter as you.”

He doesn’t have to say what he’s thinking, I can read it on his face. _Maybe, but I want to matter the most._

“Nevermind.” I say. I lay back down, turn on my side away from him. “Just, nevermind.”

He doesn’t lay down next to me and I can hear his breathing in the dark.

“Bill.” Meriwether says, “I hope you know you’re more dear to me than my own life”

“Save it for the journals, that’s where your dramatics belong.”

His eyes bore into my back for a few minutes as both he and I stay quiet, afraid to move. Then I hear him blow out the candle and we settle in for what’s bound to be a long uncomfortable night.

***

I had managed to get myself into an uneasy sleep when the sound of my friend stirring jostles me awake. He comes up to a sitting position and stops all movement. I can only suppose he’s looking at me to judge if I’m sleeping or not. I readily play dead. I listen to him tug on his boots as clandestinely as possible. Seaman, who was sleeping next to him, got up and started to wag his tail.

“Shhh just stay here.” Lewis says in a whisper. Seaman whines and Lewis freezes again, waiting for me to move. When I don’t, I hear him step out of the tent and very quietly make his way out of camp.

I’m ashamed to say for a second something hard in me wants to leave Lewis to sort out his own demons and get some sleep. But it’s as small as it is hard and therefore I’m able to push it away. I open my eyes and roll over to rummage around Lewis’ side. My fingers touch metal and a shiver goes down my spine. _He didn’t bring his gun._

There is absolutely no valid reason for Lewis to be out in the woods by himself at this unholy hour, even if he had brought his gun. There’s also an infinite number ways this could end in disaster. There’s nothing for it but to go after him.

Halfway through getting my boots on I reconsider. How smart is it for both captains to leave the camp in the middle of the night without telling anyone? Shouldn’t I at least wake up one of the sergeants? I bite my lip. It’s the smart decision. It’s the Captain Clark decision. _No._ I take a breath and resume putting on my boots. Despite the fact I just told Meriwether he needed to act more professionally, I find myself incapable of making the professional choice. Whatever my friend’s doing out there he’s not in a good way. I know I shouldn’t care about his pride, not after the argument we just had, but I do. The thought of the men seeing Lewis like that, of Lewis seeing the men see him like that, turns my stomach. He would never be able to live it down.

 Whatever he’s doing out there I have to be the one to bring him back. I don’t want anyone to think less of him.

I’m grateful the moon is bright and full as Seaman and I exit the camp. All I can do is tread carefully and hope that the men are too worn out to hear me stepping on a twig. The thought of one of the sergeants sticking his head out and seeing his commanding officer creeping out like a common criminal plagues me until I’m well into the trees.

You don’t realize how terrifying the woods are until you’ve been in one at night without so much civilization as a campfire to ground you. This entire expedition I’ve been so surrounded by humans and our handiwork, I forgot this place is wild.

Now the tree roots I trip over remind me. The screeching owls call down to me. _Small! Small! Never forget you are small!_ Something slithers across my path and I’m so spooked I nearly shoot at it. I hear wolves cry out in the distance. Pressing onward I cling to my two lifelines, my gun, and Seaman, who seems to know the way to my friend although I’m completely lost. _Meriwether once I find you I will use this gun to blow your dramatic brains out do you hear?_ I need to get to Lewis before this awful place swallows both of us.

Periodically I lose track of Seaman and he has to come back and get me, looking like some dark monster emerging to devour me everytime. It’s all warped, this forest must never end and I must be wandering it for ages, snared in Tartarus.

I stop for a moment to lean against a tree and collect myself. I simply cannot go on like this. I close my eyes. _The trees are just trees, the animals are just flesh and blood, and the darkness is just the sun lighting up the other half of the world._ I open my eyes and laugh a little. It didn’t help, no matter how I did the equation the sum was still terrifyingly greater than its parts. I hear a whine and I look down to see Seaman staring impatiently at me. I prepare myself to give Lewis more chase but instead Seaman looks away and I follow his line of vision until I see him.

There’s a small clearing up ahead, a field full of wildflowers. At the far edge of it a gargantuan fallen tree frames the enclave. Lewis is sitting on it, back to me. I want  to call out to him but somehow that seems defiant in a space as devoid of human noise as this.

“Good boy,” I tell Seaman as I give his fur a few strokes for courage. “Come on let’s bring him home.”

As I get closer to the fallen tree, I realize what I thought was the continuation of forest wasn’t actually consecutively connected by land. There was a sharp precipice in between the two patches of wood, maybe ten feet away from the log.

“Meriwether!” I whisper as loudly as I dare, still afraid to offend this place.

Lewis looks at me from his place on the log. He’s sitting up where the trunk becomes the roots so he’s a few feet taller than me, “Bill,” he says sounding mildly surprised. “Bill your eyes look wild.”

He’s so calm it’s incredible, sitting up there with his feet dangling over the side and his hands folded in his lap. _This_ is what I was afraid of? I would laugh, but the sublime absurdity of this situation affects me as well and so I squint up at him and say the only thing I can think of. “Meriwether it’s the middle of the night.”

He looks as if he’s about to reply when suddenly his eyes go wide and Seaman starts to bark furiously. I whip around. The fields really do have eyes and these eyes are glowing. My gun is instantaneously ready to fire, but there’s hardly a dearth of targets.

Everywhere I look I see wolves emerging from the forest. “Are they behind me as well?” I ask. _It’s the wind._ I realize. _It brought our scent right to them and hid theirs from Seaman._

“Yes.” I hear Meriwether reply. I don’t like our chances. Two men, one gun, and one dog against a whole wolf pack. _And I didn’t tell anyone where I was going,_ I think, furious at myself for being so foolhardy. Seaman growls low as the alpha comes into view. His eyes seem fiercely intelligent and his expression looks almost haughty, like he knows he has the real power. “Jesus Christ.” I say, immediately focusing my rifle at the beast. He’s huge, at least up to my waist.

“Calm yourself.” Lewis says. “If you take a shot the others could attack before you have time to reload.”

“Maybe I’ll scare them away.” I say. “Maybe I’ll kill the alpha and scatter the others.”

“Maybe you’ll scare them into attacking.” Lewis says firmly. “Stand down.”

I watch in disbelief as he pushes past me and starts walking towards the alpha. “Lewis!” I say as loud as dare, terrified one wrong syllable and I’ll unleash hell down upon us. “They’ll tear you apart!”

He glances back at me. Perhaps it’s just a trick of the moonlight but his face looks serene. “They’ll do that anyway.” He continues to advance. Seaman looks up at me anxiously, as if to ask me why out of all the humans in the world his had to be insane.

My hands are shaking ever so slightly but I keep the gun fixed on the leader. He’s as calm as Lewis. My friend kneels down so the wolf and he are both eye level. He sticks out his hand.

I can see what’s going to happen oh so clearly. At any moment this wolf is going bite down hard on Meriwether’s arm and at that point I’m going to shoot it, because even though it’s probably pointless, if I’m going to go like this, I’m going to go by giving Meriwether Lewis the best chance at survival I possibly can. Once I do that one of the wolves behind me will probably pounce and at that point I will certainly die. I take little breaths, trying to steady myself. There’s a range of emotions I should be feeling right now, not least of all rage, at Lewis for making me leave our nice comfortable tent to track him out to the middle of nowhere and watch him self-destruct or whatever this is, but I don’t feel it. I’m mostly just afraid for my friend.

The wolf glances back at his pack and tentatively walks towards Lewis. _Is that? Is that wariness I see?_ He sniffs Lewis’ outstretched hand and stares at him with those wild eyes. Meriwether stands his ground.

For some reason I feel the need to avert my eyes. I don’t belong in this moment. I’m an outsider, just another example of civilization encroaching on what ought to be kept wild.

Just when I think the scene can’t get any more surreal the wolf throws his head back and howls. The rest of his pack howls with him and the forest is drowning in the primordial glory of it all. After a second Seaman takes his rightful place in the chorale. Meriwether turns to me and he’s smiling, he’s smiling with this terrifying lunar grin but in that moment, I am not afraid. I am positively elated.

My gun drops to the ground and I surrender to this thing so much greater than myself as I laugh and laugh and laugh.

And then the wolf cries go silent, and they retreat back into the forest as if they were never there.

Meriwether and I just stare at each other, and for a moment there are no walls between us, no end of him and no beginning of me.

Lewis takes a few weary steps backward, as if to distance himself from the weight of what he just experienced and that’s when I remember where we are and my soul shoots back into my own skin. Because it doesn’t matter what we do or see or experience together, I am always going to be the one with two feet on the ground and Lewis is always going to be the one on the edge of the precipice.

I anticipate the fact that he’s going to fall before he starts to fall, and I take a few strides forward. It’s my turn to be calm. But of course the calmest demeanor in the world can’t change the fact that once Lewis stumbles backward, his momentum will make it impossible for me to pull him up, even if I can reach him in time.

Therefore it’s a audacious tree that decided it was going to grow on the edge of a cliff face that really saves Lewis’ life. You see when Lewis takes that final step backward, the roots of that tree prevent the heel of his foot from falling on completely thin air; instead of dropping backwards, he stumbles backwards. This buys me the few extra milliseconds I need to rush forward and grab his flailing hand. I put my whole body weight against that tree and use it as a surface to push against. It works, and Lewis and I fall back onto solid ground.

Lewis is on top of of me, and both of us are too busy with the blood rushing through our ears to move. At some point I realize that Lewis is clinging onto me for dear life and all I can find it within myself to do is hold him back and felt the heartbeat of that extraordinary man against my own.

He’s buried his face into my shirt and I become aware he’s mumbling “I’m sorry."

“It’s alright.” I say. We’re still dizzily close to the edge of the cliff and so I do my best to drag the both of us back. “It’s alright.”

“No, no, it isn’t!” He’s crying. “I could’ve killed you, I could’ve killed you and you were only out here because you were looking for me.”

I had had so many things to say to him. I had wanted to scream and ask him why for a smart man he insisted on behaving like he did. But now I think I know the answer, so all I want to do is feel this man on top of me.

“Bill, I need you to know this,” Lewis says, rolling off. “I need you know that I’m-that I’m no good and I fail at everything I try to build for myself.” He can’t look at me. “And I tried to keep that from you because you, getting into a relationship with you seems like the only smart decision I’ve ever made and I was really trying not to ruin it.”

“Lewis…”

“But I can’t do that because there’s something fundamentally wrong with me, a natal defect, and the result is I always destroy what I want to protect. But- But- But-” He’s crying so hard he’s shuddering and their are no words to describe how I feel.

“It’s alright. Take your time.”

He sniffles. “But I never wanted to destroy us. And I’m sorry I don’t help enough with the men, and I’m sorry I make you feel like I’m ignoring you for glory and I’m so sorry that I rarely have the strength to show you that I’m not being dramatic when I say I value your life above my own.

Reader, I ask you, what do you do with a man like this?

“I forgive you.” I say, and I finally understand that loving Meriwether like this means I’m going to have to keep on forgiving him for the rest of my life. And I finally understand that perhaps his grabs for glory are the grabs of a ill man trying to make himself feel whole. And I finally understand that this madness of his is just the price he pays for being able to walk fearless in these dark woods. And I finally understand that it’s my privilege more than it is my burden to be the one tasked with bringing him back home.

More than anything else I understand that I desperately want Meriwether Lewis to feel whole.

“Do you want to know what I need you to know,” I say, grabbing his hands. He nods. “I need you to know that that you didn’t destroy us, and I don’t think you ever will. I need you to know that you weren’t born wrong Meriwether, you were born right, so much more right than I’ll ever be.” I can see the disbelief in his eyes but I continue on. “Only you could stare down a wolf and walk away with your life. Your life and mine. And most importantly Lewis, this relationship with you is the smartest decision I ever made as well.”

Our faces are inches apart and if it were any other night, under any other circumstance I wouldn’t do what I do next. I wouldn’t even think about it.

But on this night, after what we’ve been through, after sharing a soul, even if just for an instant, after seeing the raw power of this man, after holding his vulnerabilities in my hands and knowing he trusted me enough to put them there himself, well, you can guess what happens next.

I kiss him of course.

He’s so surprised, I can feel it in the way he kisses me back, surprised and deliriously happy.

“Is this real?” he asks when we pull away for air.

“Meriwether,” I say  “This whole night is a dream.”

And then we’re one again, and I know it’s unsustainable. I know I’m always going to have to worry about him and love him twice as hard before he understands that even half of it is really directed towards him. I know there might come a day where I can’t pull him back from that precipice and it terrifies me.

But it’s okay. Everything is fine because I know in this one sliver of time I’m enough for him. And for the rest of the night he’s enough for himself.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please dear God, comment. I would love to hear from you.


End file.
